The Renegade Rat Pack
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Hotch/Rossi/JJ FRIENDSHIP and HUMOR piece. When Rossi undergoes a seemingly simple procedure, life becomes exponentially more complicated for JJ and Hotch.


_**Author's Note: Loyal readers, in an effort to continue to provide you, our readers, with quality chapters containing both substance and genuine originality, Tonnie and I will be cutting back our postings to once a week. Real life has pervaded our collective world and instead of giving you, our valued readers, pieces that are rushed and cranked out on the spur of the moment, we'd rather take our time and give you something that you'll truly enjoy. We hope you'll all understand. By doing this, we'll have more time to dedicate to each of our ongoing stories and to our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". We'll still be publishing the odd oneshot here and there during the week, but for the foreseeable future, our ongoing works will come on Mondays (we hope)!**_

_**In other news, we now have 49 participants to the Fanfic Challenge 2010 - Round 2 and are simply thrilled that so many talented authors are choosing to take part. And we still have another day left for signups. So, if you're interested, head on over to the forum and throw your name in. We're hoping it will be a lot of fun for all and will surely produce some amazing work. Additionally, we're already hard at work on next month's challenge. And please, check out our newest interviews with the equally talented njborba and Daisyangel!**_

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**The Renegade Rat Pack**

Shifting in her faux leather waiting room chair, Jennifer Jareau exchanged an anxious glance with Aaron Hotchner. Glancing at the wall clock for the sixth time in as many minutes, she nervously asked, "Don't you think they should be done by now? I mean, it was just a simple tooth extraction."

"I would have thought so," Hotch murmured, looking up from the file in his lap, "but then I've known Rossi for twenty years, and simple isn't exactly one of his defining characteristics, JJ."

There was that. Hell, JJ wasn't entirely certain why she was even here. But when the renowned profiler had shown up at her office door a mere twenty-four hours ago begging for a favor, she hadn't been able to turn him away.

Truth be told, she had a soft spot for the legendary profiler. Without him, she'd have never felt the influence to become an FBI agent...she would have never had the courage. But because of those long ago words he'd spoken at one of the bookstores on her Georgetown campus, here she was...a qualified capable agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation. She'd long ago forgotten whatever the words had been that he'd said, but she remembered his earnest tone clearly. It was the same one he'd used on her yesterday afternoon. And she suspected that he knew it.

David Rossi had never been a guy that had a difficult time exploiting weakness, be they real or perceived.

Just as JJ opened her mouth to speak again, both her and Hotch's eyes were drawn to the flushed, scrub clad nurse standing in the partially open doorway. "David Rossi?" she asked, her eyes scanning the crowded room.

"Here," JJ said, raising a deft hand in the air as she rose from her chair, Hotch moving to stand quickly behind her. "We're here for him."

"Oh, thank God," the nurse muttered, forcing herself to smile tightly as she stepped aside to let them follow her into the treatment area. "I was worried he might have come alone."

"Is everything all right?" Hotch asked quickly, a frown marring his handsome face.

"Well," the nurse drawled, arching one brow, "that depends on what you categorize as "all right", Sir."

Darting an anxious look at Hotch, JJ asked, worry coloring her words ,"Is Dave stable? It WAS just a simple tooth extraction, right?"

Nodding once, the nurse quickly assured her, "Mr. Rossi will be fine. When the doctor began the procedure, he didn't realize that the nerves to Mr. Rossi's tooth were tangled with the root. We ended up needing to fully sedate the patient. " She paused for a moment, then said, slowly, "And...well...Mr. Rossi experienced some side effects from anesthesia."

"What kind of side effects?" Hotch asked worriedly, already imagining the need to call an ambulance and have his good friend transported to a medical facility post haste.

Biting her lip, the nurse cleared her throat. "Well, my best diagnosis is that your normally very gentlemanly friend has turned into a dirty old man."

"Pardon?" JJ asked, her eyes widening slightly as she met the woman's bemused eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Oh," the nurse replied cryptically, turning to lead them down the bright corridor. "You'll see."

Trading a leery look at Hotch at the nurse's slightly forbidding tone, JJ continued following the nurse down the hallway. About three steps from the partially open door to one of the examination rooms, both JJ and Hotch had to stifle their sudden laughter as David Rossi's off-key rendition of the Dean Martin classic "Mambo Italiano" floated out into the hallway.

"Oh, Dear God," Hotch groaned outside the door as Rossi shifted from Dean Martin's hit to Frank Sinatra's "Come Fly With Me." "He's rat packing it."

"You've heard him like this before?" JJ whispered as she tried to tamp down on her urge to giggle. An evil thought invaded her mind just then, and she valiantly fought the dark urge to turn on the video recorder on her phone.

"Only a couple of times in twenty years. Usually by the time he reaches Frankie, he's on the verge of passing out," Hotch explained, wincing as Dave hit a particularly high note, the screech bouncing off the walls around them.

"No such luck, Sir," the nurse declared apologetically. "Your patient is wide awake and wound for sound," she said, nodding inside the room as she widened the door.

Choking back a laugh as the door opened fully, JJ's eyes widened at a pink gown clad David Rossi happily sitting on the end of the treatment chair, twirling his bare feet as he belted out Rat Pack hits at the top of his formidable lungs. "Oh, Dear God!" JJ gasped. "Pink!" she said, pointing to the hospital gown. And if she wasn't mistaken, there might be small butterflies imprinted onto the faded cotton!

"He insisted it was his color," the nurse said dryly, gesturing toward a stack of multi-colored gowns on the side table. "Said Dean-o himself would have chosen that very one. Evidently, the man had a fashion flair."

"JJ," Hotch whispered frantically, never taking his eyes off the cheerful man in the middle of the room, "whatever you do, don't encourage him or we'll never get him out of here."

"Hotchy!" Dave greeted exuberantly, his puffy cheek barely hampering his ability to speak as he threw his arms wide. "Come on in, pally-o! Who's the skirt?" he asked, squinting at JJ, his dilated eyes contorting wildly.

Closing his eyes for a moment as he prayed for strength, Hotch replied patiently, "JJ, Dave. We agreed she'd stay with you this afternoon since I've got a meeting at Jack's school."

"JJ..Jayyyy Jayyyy," he said, drawling the name out as he winked at her, wriggling his bushy eyebrows at the same time. "Course I know who JJ is...who could forget an ass like hers?"

"Dave!" JJ and Hotch yelled in unison, their tones equally scandalized.

"Aaaand, I think you see our problem now," the professional nurse said sympathetically. "The anesthesia seems to have wreaked a bit of havoc on his system."

"A bit?" JJ choked, her eyes widening again as Dave pinched the lab technician's rump as she bent over to remove his IV tubing.

"Oh!" the tech yelped as she jumped out of his reach, automatically reaching out to smack the offending hand.

"I just needed to see if it was as firm as it looked," Dave declared balefully, pressing a hand to his heart and batting his dark eyelashes dramatically. "It was," he said with a wide grin and a smirking look toward Hotch.

"Mr. Rossi, didn't we just have a discussion about personal boundaries?" the scrub clad nurse reminded her patient evenly, her tone far nicer than he obviously deserved.

"Ah, don't be like that, Sweets," Dave said, leering at the young nurse as she bent over him to readjust his blood pressure cuff. "You ran out of here earlier before you and I could even get started on the booby game!" he pouted, pooching his lips out in defiance.

"The booby game?" JJ repeated, unable to believe the words coming out of the normally eloquent and articulate David Rossi's mouth.

"Oh, for the love of God, no!" Hotch yelled, leaping forward as both of Dave's hands began to rise, their destination clear. "No booby game, Dave!"

"Honk! Honk!" Dave cackled, frowning as he realized his palms had missed their desired target compliments of the Unit Chief's heroic leap into the fray. "Hey!" he frowned indignantly at Hotch, his eyes less than focused on their target.

"You'll thank me later," Hotch muttered, smiling tightly at the nurse. Perhaps, if they were incredibly fortunate, they might manage to escape this situation without requiring the services of the District's highest-paid sexual harassment attorney.

"Yes, you will," the nurse told Dave sweetly, dropping the last of the tubing on the rolling metal table. "You won't be forced to sing Dean-o's hits in a lovely soprano now," she smiled sweetly.

"Ah, you're just jealous," Dave declared, blowing a raspberry at the nurse as he snaked an arm around JJ's waist. "They're fake," Dave mock whispered, glancing up at JJ with an appreciative look as he tugged her closer. "Probably bought by an old boyfriend that stayed around only until he felt like he'd gotten his money's worth."

"H-how... how did you..." the nurse stuttered, blushing furiously as she barely resisted the urge to cross her arms over her ample chest.

"Pro-file-er," Dave sing-songed, squeezing JJ to his side, his hand resting a bit too familiarly on her hip.

"God!" Hotch groaned, scrubbing a hand over his jaw, "Dave, we use those skills for good, not evil," he said sharply, sending the nurse an apologetic look.

"I am bein' good," Dave retorted, pushing his chin out as he swayed slightly, pressing tighter against JJ. "I didn't tell 'er she was lop-sided! 'Sides, it's a dead giveaway when those perky peaks don't move! Unlike these," he said appreciatively, quickly cupping JJ's breasts as she gawked in sheer surprise, "real ones are like Jello! See 'em wiggle! See 'em jiggle," he sang, bouncing JJ's boobs in his hands happily. "J-E-L-L-O!"

"My breasts are not dessert!" JJ exploded, shoving Dave's hands away as she tugged her shirt tighter over her offended bosom.

"Wanna bet? I wouldn't mind seeing how many licks it would take to...Ooomph," Dave grunted as Hotch's open palm soundly connected with his mouth.

"Dave, I'm begging you," Hotch said, glancing toward the two thunderous women glaring daggers at him, "for once, do me a favor and shut up."

"What the hell did you people give him?" JJ asked in horror as she stared at her formerly sane colleague, her mind completely rattled from the unexpected behavior the normally staid gentleman was exhibiting.

"Morphine," the nurse said tersely, casting another glare toward her recalcitrant patient. "And twilight sedation. Evidently not a promising combination for him," she muttered. "But he's more than ready to go home now," she said with a sudden burst of enthusiasm, looking between her patient's friends. In fact, we've done everything we can. Here," she said, thrusting a quarter sheet of white paper in Hotch's direction, "is his prescription for antibiotics and a pain reliever. Although," she added with a measured look in Rossi's direction, "I'd use the latter sporadically. Very, very sporadically."

"I think I got that," Hotch muttered, keeping one hand on a the active Rossi as the squirming man tried to cop another feel of a rapidly retreating JJ.

"Then, as my son would say," the nurse said, relief creeping into her modulated voice as she sympathetically patted JJ on the arm, "may the force be with you."

Waiting until the nurse left the room and the door clicked soundly behind her, Hotch looked at a groping Dave and sighed. "JJ, grab his jeans," he ordered, motioning toward the neatly folded stack of clothing on the side chair.

"Jeans?" Rossi echoed, jumping off the table onto flat bare feet. "Why? I'm wearing THIS," he said, twirling in a circle as the open ends of his gown flapped open, backside waving proudly in the slight breeze he created.

"Uhhh, Dave," JJ said, tossing the jeans to Hotch as she tried to still his perpetual motion, her hand barely making contact with the flying gown. "I think you need to put on the pants."

Skidding to a stop in the center of the floor, Rossi grinned a silly grin, his lips stretching widely as he bounced on his heels. "Nuh uh. I'm gonna do it MY WAY," he declared, jabbing his thumb into his chest belligerently. "That's how Sinatra did it, and if it's good enough for Frankie, it's good enough for me."

And as she stood watching, the handsome man broke into yet another chorus of the Sinatra standard. "Hotch?" JJ murmured to her boss as he leaned tiredly against the wall, his weary eyes staring tiredly at the very vocal David Rossi. "What are we gonna do?"

Holding up a finger, Hotch straightened suddenly, his mind clicking into gear. "I got this," he muttered, walking toward his friend. "Dave! Davie!" Hotch called, changing his inflection slightly just as Dave warbled off into tone-deaf nothingness. "What say that you and I blow this joint and go home to a couple of skirts and scotches?"

Drunkenly stepping toward his friend, Dave smiled widely as he patted Hotch on the cheek, his fingers slapping harder than necessary. "Now THAT, boy-o, sounds like a plan," Dave agreed, reaching for his pants as Hotch held them out.

"Bathroom, Dave," Hotch urged with a roll of his eyes, shoving the older man gently toward the open door at the side of the room and stuffing his shirt into his hand along the way.

"You always have the best plans, Aaron," Dave sighed appreciatively as Hotch closed the door on his stupidly smiling face.

"Uh huh, get dressed!" Hotch called back as he heard Dave start to trill doo-wops in the background. "The broads won't wait forever!"

Shaking her head at Hotch's impression of a forties Rat Packer, JJ stifled a giggle, pressing her fingers to her lips as she raised an eyebrow. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight the part of Peter Lawford will be played by the inimitable Aaron Hotchner!"

"Don't laugh," Hotch sighed, leaning against the bathroom door as the muffled sounds from inside filtered through the wood. "After his second divorce back in '87, I had to channel Sammy Davis, Jr. for an entire night to keep him from wrecking the bar. There's a barkeep in Old Towne Baltimore that still gives me free drinks every time I go in just for that little sacrifice."

"You two go way back, don't you?" JJ asked with a soft smile as Rossi's off-key voice again rang out. In all of her time with the BAU, she had never seen this side of Aaron Hotchner. And she had a very distinct feeling that she might never have the privilege again, his propensity for hiding this part of nature well known.

"Most days, further than I'd like," Hotch grumbled, glaring over his shoulder as he heard a muffled thud.

"Well, there's only one thing I can say to that, isn't there?" JJ asked with twinkling eyes.

"What?" Hotch grunted, more than ready to get his medically-sloshed friend safely ensconced in his own bed. And if there was a God in heaven shining down on them all, that feat could be accomplished without any further sexual harassments or innuendoes along the way.

"As the man sings," JJ said, nodding to the door behind Hotch, her eyes softening as she considered the long-suffering friendship between the two men, "Now, THAT'S amore."

_**Finis**_

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_A/N 2 - For those interested in hearing the songs, go to youtube and look up Dean Martin's "Mambo Italiano" and Frank Sinatra's "Fly Me to the Moon" and "My Way". They are Rat Pack standards._


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